


Reaching Equilibrium

by Gelsey



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Exhibitionism, Multi, Threesome - F/M/M, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-01
Updated: 2014-01-01
Packaged: 2018-01-07 00:06:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1113131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gelsey/pseuds/Gelsey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The three oldest Triwizard champions meet for a very private celebration before the Final Task.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reaching Equilibrium

She came in with three champagne flutes dangling from the fingers of one hand and the champagne bottle swinging in the other. Viktor, once he recovered from the gut-clenching reaction she always engendered, hoped Fleur had used a Stabilizing Charm on the bottle, or they wouldn't have much to drink once it was opened.

"So we're having a bit of a celebration, then?" Cedric asked, taking the glasses from her with an easy, gallant smile and a chivalrous grace that soured Viktor's mood a little, especially when Fleur gave the English blond a smile of thanks.

" _Oui_ , I was t'inking we deserved one. Don't you, Viktor?" Her long, silver-blonde hair gleamed in the Lumos light of the room as she flipped it effortlessly over her shoulder. His previous jealousy evaporated in the warmth of her smile.

"I do," he agreed in his rougher, lower voice—bass to Cedric's tenor. The Bulgarian rose from his seat on the couch, gesturing her to sit with a small, formal, stiff bow that harkened of his Old World manners. "Please, sit. I vill open the drink."

Quidditch roughened fingers brushed hers as he took the bottle from hands that were stronger than they looked. Something in his chest tightened and his skin tingled; the way she glanced up at him through her lashes made him think that she was all too aware of her physical effect on him. 

At least his robes were made in such a way that they hid any stirring of interest lower down.

He half-turned away, as much to avoid her knowing gaze as to settle the bottle in a position to open it where it wouldn't gush all over anyone. Though the picture of a champagne-soaked Fleur really wasn't one he needed right now, he thought as he popped the cork with the ease of long practice. Cedric was there almost instantly with the glasses, holding them out to be filled.

When Viktor met his fellow competitor's gaze, smoky gray eyes laughed knowingly and a faint smirk was visible before the Hogwarts champion raised a glass to hide it. Viktor's first instinct was to bristle, but there was no animosity in either expression, and Viktor was definitely familiar with animosity.

He decided to mimic the other man and hid his uncertainty behind the glass of what would prove to be quite exquisite champagne. Bubbles tickled at his overly large nose. "So, to vat are we toasting?" he asked, turning once again to address Fleur, who, to him, was the most important person in the room.

Her perfect lips pursed slightly as she tapped them with one perfectly manicured nail, deep in thought. "To one last task before one of us is better than all zee ozzers," she said, lifting her glass with a lofty, superior expression.

He glanced at Cedric and found his amusement mirrored there—as well as a darkening of eyes and faint flush that told Viktor that he wasn't the only one interested in the part-Veela.

"To being equals, for avhile longer, at least."

Cedric snorted quietly and echoed his toast, and after two glasses of champagne Viktor really didn't mind the fact that Cedric obviously shared an interest in their third competitor. Especially since he was sharing the old couch with her in this room that Cedric had somehow wheedled out of the Headmaster for the three eldest—and legitimate—competitors and Fleur was tipsy and leaning into him, and Cedric was, well, sitting in the nearby armchair. Alone.

Kissing her was one of those accidentally-on-purpose accidents where she leaned too close and so did he. Perhaps it was one of those special accidents on her part, as well. Merlin knew they'd been flirting more the drunker they'd become.

The kiss started out surprisingly gentle. Her lips tasted of champagne and the chocolate from the strawberries they'd all had earlier—Cedric had ordered from some very helpful house-elves. 

He groaned softly and suddenly the kiss was deep, possessive, and undeniably thorough on both ends. Viktor didn't know if he'd pulled her onto his lap or if she'd moved there herself, but he wasn't about to complain.

It wasn't until he realized that his groan and her moan weren’t the only things he was hearing that his intoxicated brain managed to remember they weren't the only ones in the room. Viktor broke the devouring kiss but continued to clutch her tightly to him, the heat of her body even more potent than the alcohol the never-ending bottle provided. He peered with heavy-lidded eyes over Fleur's shoulder, lips pressing against the pale column of her neck, to see Cedric completely sprawled out on the chair, one leg over one of the arms. The British man's face was flushed and his eyes were locked irrevocably on Viktor and Fleur; the heel of his hand pressed to his groin made it obvious to Viktor that Cedric was enjoying the view very much.

"Ve are being vatched," Viktor murmured against Fleur's ear, his hands on her hips pressing her against him as he rocked upward.

Fleur's head fell back as she moaned, her hair cascading like a silver waterfall down her back to brush his knees. "Let 'im watch," she purred throatily, loudly enough for Cedric to hear. "'e seems to be liking it."

He did, definitely, and Viktor decided he really didn't mind being watched. Especially when Fleur's clever fingers were dancing their way down the buttons of his Eastern European cut robes, undoing them deftly The shirt underneath was dealt with in a similar manner, and the feeling of her pale hands on his paler chest made any lingering, hidden discomfort disappear quicker than a Banishing Spell.

He shrugged out of them, freeing his arms from the confinement. Hands stroked their way up her smooth thighs and up under her robes—it was a much simpler to divest her of her clothes. The silky blue of Beauxbatons slid up the curve of her hips, the dip of her belly. His breath caught and the sound was echoed from the arm chair.

Viktor's eyes met Cedric's again, and the thought was mutually shared—she was breathtaking.

The material attempted to stay firmly clinging to her pert breasts. Cedric made a demanding sound, and Viktor pulled harder, raising her arms with the action and finally getting it over her head. Either she loved sexy lingerie or she'd expected to be undressed tonight, as the lacy brassiere and matching knickers were obviously expensive as well as sexy.

Viktor cupped her breasts and tweaked the already peaked nipples, making her gasp and roll her hips against his. He strained upward a little, cursing his trousers as they bound his cock almost painfully.

Fleur leaned forward and caught his lower lip between her teeth, pulling very carefully but still managing to blank his brain quite thoroughly even as her hands quickly dealt with his standard issue Durmstrang trousers. Lifting up onto her knees, she urged him to lift his hips so she could push them lower down. Like many wizards, he wore nothing underneath.

The fabric whisked down his legs, making him grunt with surprise until he saw Cedric dropping his wand back down beside him. The Brit had lost his robes already, displaying a fit, athletic body and surprisingly, boxers—but then, he did seem like the sort, Viktor supposed. The boxers were more than notably tented, though, and the Bulgarian Seeker had the distinct feeling that they would be gone very soon.

The feeling of the damp heat of her lacy knickers grinding against his freed cock was ultimately distracting, however, and he clutched her to him, groaning and clenching his jaw with the sudden struggle of not losing control. No drunken embarrassment for him, thank you very much.

He growled a low spell and the latch of her brassiere unclasped with no fumbling. Her lips parted in surprise at this tactic, and he took advantage of the opportunity to kiss her thoroughly, plundering her mouth with a ruthlessness that made her whimper and writhe against him.

“Viktor,” she managed once her lips were free. It was a pleading sound, hopelessly wanton.

“Take off her knickers,” another voice pleaded, Cedric from his chair. He was completely naked now, one hand pinching a flat nipple and the other stroking his cock at what, Viktor realized, was the same pace they were frotting to on the couch. The sight was surprisingly arousing, and Viktor hooked his fingers on each side of Fleur’s knickers. “No, rip them. _Please_.”

The request pleased Viktor and he did just that, giving the flimsy fabric one quick jerk and feeling it give way under his hands. Fleur cried out, partly pain, maybe, but almost completely pleasure from what Viktor could tell. Her hands gripped the short hair at the back of his neck, and her hips jerked desperately over his cock, teasing the very tip without meaning to.

Or perhaps she meant to. He only cared about having her.

“Hurry.” Viktor didn’t know if it was Cedric or Fleur giving the demand, or both, but he followed it, lining her up and thrusting into her hard. Her back arched and her eyelids fluttered shut.

He cursed quietly in his native tongue. She was tight, hot, and wet, and she clenched around him as he slammed in again. Every time he thrust in, she met him with a tilt of her hips and a mewl that he rather thought meant he was hitting a sweet spot. Her eyes quickly glazed as their pace picked her, and she panted in fast little gasps interspersed with moans when he ducked his head to nip at one peaked, bouncing nipple.

French he could understand very little of poured out of her mouth, interspersed with “ _oui oui oui, mon dieu, oui_ , ‘arder, fuck, mooorrrre.”

Her painted nails skimmed almost painfully down his back, leaving small red weals behind, and he left her breasts to nip his way up her neck. It gave him a view of the desperately masturbating Cedric, who was stroking himself to their pace with one hand and massaging his balls with the other, legs spread quite wantonly as he watched them. 

Cedric’s skin was flushed and his hips thrust up to meet his own hand, and he had bitten his lip quite hard, enough to plump it out on both sides. “Make her come. Fuck, Viktor, make her come,” he plead, ordered. 

Viktor sank his teeth into the sweet skin of her shoulder, earning him a loud cry, and ground her hard against him, pounding into her with the same desperation the man watching them showed. She shattered with a series of shouts, head thrown back, exposing herself with no reservations whatsoever. Viktor couldn’t survive that and came as well, feeling her clench around him repeatedly. He couldn’t ever remember seeing stars from orgasming before, but this time he did—but not before he saw the cords of Cedric’s neck tight as his body practically arched off the chair as he spurted over his hand and chest.

The aftermath was full of gasps and thudding hearts, but even as all three regained awareness, there was no embarrassment or awkwardness. It surprised Viktor, the lack of that—for all of his Quidditch exploits, this situation had never occurred before. He couldn’t say he would ever seek it out purposefully again, but with these two, he felt… comfortable.

It was Cedric who rose first, almost shakily, Viktor thought smugly, though why smug he wasn’t certain. Cedric picked up a robe—Viktor’s, they must have tossed it aside earlier—and came over to them. He draped it over Fleur’s shoulders, taking the opportunity to lean forward and press his lips to her neck, where her gossamer-fine hairs stuck to the moisture of her skin. Viktor couldn’t deny the other man a taste. Cedric then pressed his lips to the mark already forming on her shoulder, from where Viktor had bitten it, and his grey eyes met Viktor’s dark ones again. Lazy satisfaction filled both gazes.

“You are beautiful,” he murmured in Fleur’s ear, though his eyes remained on Viktor’s—and the Bulgarian knew that he was included in the statement.

“So are you,” Fleur purred.

At a minute gesture from Viktor, Cedric, still naked, took a seat beside them, and Fleur lazily ended up sprawled across them both, jealousy non-existent now. In the post-coital bliss they all felt, everything seemed peaceful, and for the first time since the tournament started, the three felt like they’d reached a perfect equilibrium in life and with each other.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for wizard_love several years ago for odds_are_evie.


End file.
